Every shallow puddle is reflecting the sun.
Shimmering and glimmering, but it's just water and mud.
And every single thread you pull, you know you make me come undone.
Don't be so dangerous. My nerves are getting thin.
Don't be so dangerous. You left a wake everywhere we've been!
You better listen when I'm talking, I don't want to have to talk real loud.
I'm having trouble appreciating how tightly you've been wound.
I don't need to make an exit, I'll just take off in the crowd, and then it's done.
Don't be so dangerous. My nerves are getting raw.
Why'd you go fuck it up, like the little thunderstorm you are.
I've been waking myself up, shaking in the night.
My dreams are dark and jagged like the pieces I try to hide.
All my feminine fragility is leaking out my eyes.
Don't be so dangerous. You don't feel a thing,
and that's so dangerous. You've got every tool you need
to bring me down and make me beg you;
baby, I'm ahead of you, but you're catching up.
You've got every tool, every tool, every tool you need.